She smiled faintly, tilting her head ever so slightly. The waitress handed us our side dishes: pasta salad for her and spaghetti for me. We both started eating and chatting.
"So, what is it you wanted to talk about?"
The question threw me. My mind scrambled for a reason, a topic, anything that didn't sound contrived. The pause grew just long enough to feel awkward.
"I… wanted to talk to you. I want to hear your voice. It's been so long since we last caught up. Is that okay?"
Her warm smile returned, and she nodded.
"Of course," she replied with an easy smile.
"That's great," I said, and my enthusiasm was genuine.
"So, you already passed probation, right?" she asked.
"Yes. It was last month but our management just reviewed it recently" I responded.
"I see. Where did you work before?" She asked, leaning forward slightly, curiosity alight in her eyes.
"Oh, I worked at an NGO," I began, as my voice carried a mix of modesty and nostalgia. " and I also taught computers in some classes."
"Wow, that's excellent!" she exclaimed, clearly impressed.
I just laughed softly, shaking my head.
"I'm not that one," I said, brushing off the compliment.
"You are!" she insisted, her sincerity unwavering.
I tilted my head, a small smile lingering.
"And what about you? What did you do before now?"
A pause hung between us as she hesitated, her fingers grazing the edge of her cup.
"Umm…"
She hesitated, her expression a mix of uncertainty and reflection.
"I used to help with my parents' business in Siem Reap," she said softly. "But I moved here about three years ago."
Her words lingered, stirring memories of her parents and their last conversation with Davy and Nita. The air between us grew quiet, heavy with unspoken thoughts. Noticing my introspective silence, she tilted her head slightly and ventured further.
"Didn't you consider finding another job?" I asked.
"I did but I didn't get one yet, some are quite bare minimum. I have a lot to spend."
"I see." I knew it without her mentioning about spending. She is a rich kid which maintained her high profile all along.
"And you? And do you have any siblings, parents, or...?" She asked back.
I took a breath, the words slow and deliberate.
"I have a brother and a sister, but we live apart now. My dad passed away about ten, maybe eleven years ago. My mom remarried, and... well, I've been on my own since. His anniversary is coming soon. "
Her gaze shifted downward, her expression softening with sympathy. The sorrow in her eyes was unmistakable, as if she felt the weight of my story settle between us.
"I'm so sorry! That must be so hard for you," she said, her voice laced with genuine concern.
I shook my head gently, forcing a small smile.
"Yes, but I'm okay now." I replied, though the words felt thin, barely holding together the weight of what I truly felt.
She hesitated, her gaze searching mine before she spoke again.
"May I know... how did your dad pass away?"
The question hung in the air, pulling me into the vivid memories I had tried so hard to bury. The moment played out in my mind like a scene I couldn't escape, the trauma pressing heavy against my chest. But I knew she was listening, her compassion clear, and I owed her the truth.
"He... he got into a car crash," I began, my voice faltering. "He was rushing to get to me."
Her expression shifted, sadness softening her features as she absorbed my words. I tried to keep my composure, to pretend that I had made peace with something that had haunted me for almost a decade. But even as I masked my emotions, I saw it in her eyes—she understood. She could feel the ache I thought I had hidden so well.
"I am so sorry. You must be in so much pain," she said, her voice gentle with empathy.
"I did. And I still regret every single thing I did while he was still here. Once he's gone, there's no going back. I can never apologize to him. That's what weighs on me the most," I whispered, and my words were heavy with sorrow.
Her shoulders slumped, the weight of her guilt dragging her down. I could see it in her eyes, the pain I had unintentionally stirred. Some of my words had struck a deep chord, I knew. Yet, I couldn't help but speak the truth, even as it hurt both of us. Deep down, I wanted her to return to her parents, to find solace and safety there, especially after learning that Hak Seng would be coming back to work. The thought of him reappearing in our lives made everything feel even more uncertain.
"You must be a good son!" she said, her voice laced with a hint of expectation.
I shook my head with a grin.
"No, I was a bad boy."
For a fleeting moment, I caught the glimmer of amusement in her eyes, but she quickly masked it. She must be treading lightly, afraid of what my words might reveal. But I was fine, perfectly fine.
"Aren't you?" she teased, her tone light.
"I was, really. One for sure," I replied, the honesty in my voice undeniable.
"What about now?" she pressed, curiosity dancing in her eyes.
"A troublemaker," I confessed, a mischievous glint in my gaze.
She laughed softly, clearly doubting my sincerity.
"Are you kidding me, right?"
"I'm not, I am telling the truth!" I weighed my words.
Her gaze flickered toward me, our eyes locking for a brief, quiet moment. But then, she turned away, the tension dissipating in a blink. I couldn't help but smile as I returned to my meal, savoring the fleeting exchange.
A deep unease settles in my chest, a constant worry that gnaws at me, and it's all because of Solinka. My mind can't fully grasp the depths of her suffering, nor can I fathom how she endures the agony of knowing what lies ahead for Mr. Hak Seng. Yet, amidst it all, there's a light that seems to be returning to her.
She's blossoming slowly, her soul fighting to heal and exist in this moment. But as I watch her glow with quiet strength, I can't stand seeing her drowned in anguish, hiding behind the wine glass as if she has no purpose left. The weight of it all presses on me, leaving me helpless.
I lie awake in the quiet of the night, restless and consumed by the weight of the unknown. The future looms, twisting my insides, and the thought of her peace shattered churns my soul. How can I win her heart and protect her from the world she keeps at arm's length? How can I become the shield she needs when she stands so distant? I pray for guidance to become her protector, her fortress against the storms.
The night fades as dawn's first light paints the sky in lavender and gold. The stars vanish, and the sun's warmth rises. The world awakens in quiet anticipation, with a sense of hope in the air, signaling new beginnings and tender moments.
Continued...